


accidents happen

by cadyjanis



Series: cadnis [9]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Cady Heron Has ADHD, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Post-Canon, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-12-30 12:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18315572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadyjanis/pseuds/cadyjanis
Summary: “oh my god, okay, don’t move,” janis is begging, kneeling beside her with one hand on her chest. “i am so sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you—oh my god, are you okay?”“ouch. yeah,” cady grunts, her lower back and neck aching from the impact. her head pounds slightly. a concussion, with her luck.—cady takes a tumble. janis blames herself.





	accidents happen

**Author's Note:**

> y’all ever thought about [cathryn wake](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/f8b391_64db399b009d4d1bb546a765ed728777~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_667,h_1000,al_c,q_90/f8b391_64db399b009d4d1bb546a765ed728777~mv2.webp) as cady bc i have and it’s my fav concept so here

Cady doesn’t realize she’s alone until she goes to ask someone to dip her paintbrush for her and nobody responds. She twists on her ladder, only partially surprised to see the rest of the crew have up and left.

 

“Seriously?” she mutters, but checks her watch, and understands when she discovers it’s fifteen past four. She literally cannot recall saying goodbye to anybody, and that’s either because her preoccupied memory won’t allow it, or she just didn’t.

 

Sometimes she gets so hyper-focused on things she completely forgets her surroundings, loses track of time, and occasionally can’t stop what she’s doing until somebody gently pries her away from her very important task.

 

Okay, well, half the time the stuff isn’t all that important, like last week when she got so into Mario Kart her mom had to physically come into the basement and take the Wii remote from her to pause it in order to tell her dinner was ready.

 

Sighing, Cady climbs down her trusty ladder—she tries not to be ashamed of the fact it’s about as tall as she is at a teensy five feet—and reapplies blue paint to her brush, carefully returning to the banner she just hung and fixing a sloppy “R” in NORTH SHORE SCIENCE FAIR.

 

Everything others do, she can do better. Though her artistic knowledge is limited and she only learned from her patient girlfriend about a month ago. They went on a date to a community art class together and Janis was so excited. She was more of a teacher to Cady than the actual woman directing the class, and Cady is positive her mildly impressive painting of a pot of sunflowers wouldn’t be as good without Janis’s help.

 

Cady is so into perfecting minor details on the lettering that she fails to hear the gymnasium door squeak open, not even noticing the would-be familiar figure who enters and greets her with her classic, “Hiii.”

 

Muttering to herself, not even realizing she’s doing it, Cady doesn’t hear her. Janis pouts then steps a little closer, gazing up at the banner. She tries again, louder, saying, “Caddy. Hey,” and that’s when Cady catches sight of her in her peripheral, and is naturally startled.

 

Except she doesn’t just yelp and put a hand over her heart, she loses her balance and topples off the lander and goes sprawling on the floor with a dull thud. Janis cries out in horror, then rushes to her aid, abandoning her backpack on a table.

 

“Shit,” Cady wheezes, the wind having been knocked out of her. She didn’t fall very far, she was only standing on the third step, but she’s small and fragile, like a bird. That’s how her mom always puts it, and she definitely feels it today.

 

“Oh my God, okay, don’t move,” Janis is begging, kneeling beside her with one hand on her chest. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you—oh my God, are you okay?”

 

“Ouch. Yeah,” Cady grunts, her lower back and neck aching from the impact. Her head pounds slightly. A concussion, with her luck.

 

“Did you hit your head?” Janis demands anxiously, brushing loose curls off her face like that’s going to help. Not that Cady is mad at her. It’s not really her fault.

 

“No, but—” Cady inhales, chest uncomfortably tight, and waits for her vision to steady so she can stop seeing three Janis’s at once (as nice as that would actually be). “Ow.”

 

“God, I am so sorry,” Janis moans behind her other hand, utterly mortified.

 

“Don’t be, it’s okay,” Cady pants, wincing as she tries to sit up. Janis helps her, and the pain is splintering, but Cady is pretty sure she didn’t break anything. She still feels her ribs just in case, but she’s broken a rib before and can tell she’s fine this time. She’ll definitely be bruised elsewhere, if her throbbing tailbone is any indication.

 

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Janis says again, keeping her upright since she’s swaying a little.

 

Cady weakly pats her cheek, more worried about Janis than herself. “It’s all good. I just didn’t hear you. Help me up, loser.”

 

Reluctantly, Janis takes Cady’s hands and slowly helps her stand up. “Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cady replies, breathless still, and Janis pulls over a chair for her to sit. She digs around in her backpack for water, her go-to remedy for any injury Cady could possibly sustain, and to appease her, Cady takes the bottle and sips it. She was kind of thirsty, anyway.

 

Janis drags her hands down her face, cupping her cheeks in shame, watching Cady like she’s ready for her to pass out or start convulsing any second.

 

The pain up her back ebbs gradually, but she’s positive she doesn’t have a concussion. She musters a smile at her much taller, much more anxiety-riddled girlfriend and says calmly, “Jan. I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.”

 

Janis mumbles something unintelligible and sits down in the chair opposite her. “Sorry,” she murmurs, and they’re close enough Cady can reach out and take her hand, squeezing it.

 

“I wasn’t paying attention,” she reminds her, genuinely feeling better, if not winded. “I didn’t see you. I should have, but I didn’t. It’s not like you snuck up on me.”

 

“I kinda did, though,” Janis refutes, wanting to shoulder all the blame. She does that more often now that Cady isn’t a Plastic anymore, like she’s trying to atone for her part in what they did to Regina. Not for hurting Regina specifically, but using Cady as a pawn, which Cady has long since forgiven her for. But Janis clearly still wrestles with it, not yet forgiving herself.

 

“Janis. Stop.” Cady gives her _that_ look—stern mouth, raised eyebrows—until Janis takes a deep breath and relaxes somewhat.

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she tells Cady unnecessarily, and Cady rolls her eyes.

 

“I _know_ you didn’t, sweets. It’s fine.” Cady puts the cap back on the bottle, finally noticing the neglected paintbrush, at the foot of the ladder, blue paint forming a puddle under the bristles. Janis follows her gaze, and it’s ironically symbolic. The sad, lonely paintbrush.

 

“I’ll clean that up,” Janis says, standing, and swoops in to kiss her before she can protest. Cady huffs a laugh, appreciating the courtesy.

 

She watches Janis sop up the paint with paper towel, then puts the luckily unharmed brush on the table, already cluttered with tape, paint cans, pushpins, glue bottles, staplers, and the like. Janis then asks if Cady can walk, linking their elbows to be safe, carrying Cady’s backpack on her other shoulder.

 

Cady looks back at the banner, wondering if she should finish, but then Janis whispers, “It looks great, love. You can work on it more tomorrow,” and Cady doesn’t have the heart to deny her the chance to look after her.

 

It’s drizzling by the time they get to Janis’s truck, Cady walking gingerly because her back hurts, and Janis looks guiltier than one of those dogs being pet-shamed. To make up for it without pestering Cady with more apologies, she turns on Cady’s favorite radio station and asks if she wants to get Starbucks.

 

Cady feels infinitely better when she has a grande caramel frappe in both her tiny hands, and at a stoplight Janis watches her sip it with fond eyes.

 

“You really won’t let me take you to urgent care?” she tries again, for she’d asked while they were waiting in line.

 

“ _No,_ ” Cady insists, and she lifts her hands in surrender, then sheepishly sips her iced coffee as Cady continues to semi-glare at her.

 

“Okay, well, promise to pop a couple Ibuprofen when you get home,” Janis mumbles, and Cady reaches out to pat her arm reassuringly. She won’t mention she’ll probably be lying flat on a heating pad later tonight, too, not wanting to make her feel worse.

 

Janis walks her to her front door, standing on the bottom porch step so they’re eye-level when Cady goes to kiss her, touching Janis’s chin like she always does. Janis’s dark eyes are soft and still apologetic. “Call me?” she pleads after Cady kisses her once more.

 

“Duh,” Cady teases, just to see her smile, and it works. Cady goes inside, but stands at the kitchen window to watch Janis jog back to her truck, the pain now completely forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are fetch ♡


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